


Cerberus

by blotsandcreases



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen, because cc reads like crack even though it has its wonderful moments, below average hair dye application
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blotsandcreases/pseuds/blotsandcreases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Trolley Witch and Delphi on the way to Godric's Hollow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cerberus

“So,” the young woman said, hesitating, “what do I call you, my good lady?”

“The Trolley Witch, of course.” She paused the packaging of her apple cakes and peered at this young woman. The Trolley Witch could have a severe frown as well as she could have a sweet smile. “Didn’t you attend Hogwarts?”

The young woman looked up from between hanks of ridiculous silver and blue hair. The black roots were already showing, and the young woman had pleasantly asked for The Trolley Witch’s colouring paste. “No, I was homeschooled.” She shifted on the bench seat and squirted another paste on her hand. “Just trolley witch?”

“ _The Trolley Witch._ ”

The young woman stared at The Trolley Witch, a glob of paste viscously dripping off a swatch of her hair.

The Trolley Witch spelled her warming charm for the apple cakes. She had no particular interest in the shenanigans of the youths today, with their odd phrases and bellybutton rings and utterly pretentious hair colourings. The Trolley Witch was briefly reminded of her Great-Aunt who was a Metamorphmagus, bless her soul. Great Aunt used to dote on The Trolley Witch and her friend Madam Malkin.

“Best charm that dollop, child. Unnecessary though your preferred combinations might be.”

The young woman gave her a slight scowl. Children.

“Why just The Trolley Witch?”

“It’s who I am, and easier to keep in mind.” The Trolley Witch gathered the apple cakes in a basket and pushed the basket in her trolley. “Rather like Wendelin the Weird. Ulf the Odd. William the Conqueror. The Trolley Witch. What’s your name?”

“Delph – The Augurey.”

The Trolley Witch raised her brows. “Delp the Augurey? I didn’t mean for you to start adopting my ways, child. Make it _hip_ and _cool_ , as you youths often do, as though it hasn’t existed yet and you aren’t ripping it off.”

“No, just The Augurey,” the young woman insisted, now fully scowling.

“If you say so. Are you running away?”

Delp the Augurey shot her a sharp look. “No. I just need to go to West Country. Godric’s Hollow.”

“So if I rang the station conductor over there, they wouldn’t tell me you’re some stowaway? A fugitive?”

Delp the Augurey’s slimy fingers tightened around her wand. The Trolley Witch started to regret giving the child her colouring paste. What a waste. 

“You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t or –”

The Trolley Witch gave a short laugh. “Are you threatening me, child? Careful, those slimy fingers might crust and fall off. And then how would you hold on to that wand?”

Delp the Augurey’s nostrils flared and her dark eyes glanced from The Trolley Witch to her almost completed trolley snacks. “I thought you were a kindly old lady.”

“Oh I am.” The Trolley Witch started packaging the lemon bars. “I am a lot of things. You must be a lot of things as well. Like shockingly impractical, colouring your hair in a distinct manner if you’re running away.”

“I am _not_ running away,” Delp the Augurey bit out. “I’m looking for my father.”

“I hope he’s also looking for you.”

Delp the Augurey’s eyes flickered, the strain around her mouth softening.

At length, the Trolley Witch added, “But you are most definitely running away. I know the look. You’re not from here.”

A blob of colouring paste missed Delp the Augurey’s hand and landed on her robe.

“Yes, you’re really not,” the Trolley Witch said. She tapped her wand on the lemon bars to keep them warm. “I haven’t seen that cut of Malkin robes around.”

They stared at each other for several heartbeats. The clock on the station rang and signaled just another hour before the train to West Country departed. The blob of colouring paste trickled its way down Delp the Augurey’s knee. What a waste.

Finally, Delp the Augurey looked away and finished her roots. The Trolley Witch was used to moping and brooding.

“Fancy a lemon bar?”  
Delp the Augurey gave a stiff nod without meeting her eyes.

“Very good. And do clean up that glob of paste on your robe.” The Trolley Witch plucked out a warm lemon bar from the pile and proffered it with a smile. “That marvelous cut, we don’t see them very often here, do we. Not even my dear Madam Malkin.” 

 

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> When not scrambling for coursework deadlines or daydreaming about fics I'm short on time to write, I'm over at blotsandcreases.tumblr.com sighing happily at all the great things. :)


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